Like a Beacon for Trouble
by Iyosana-Hari
Summary: When a couple of hunters barge into town, an already unhappy Derek isn't having it. Slight Sam/Cas (Kinda? More bromance, or Cas putting on a good boy act around him and Sam falling for it), Cas/Dean, Peter/Stiles, Sterek if you look for it but mostly pack/friendship. Relationships will probably progress, rating might too, but you know how I hate changing the Rating. T for cussing!
1. Chapter 1

It was a brand new morning, in a run off the mill, crappy, half star motel. Dean had enjoyed a lovely 6 whole hours of sleep, only to wake up on the floor, with a raccoon the size of a bobcat staring him in the face, eating the remainder of the chips he had gotten from the vending machine the night before. The floor wasn't much harder than the bed, so it seemed like a decent trade off for the more than generous amount of sleep he got. He rolled over onto his back to see Castiel staring down at him. Dean quickly pulled the oversized comforter off the bed to cover himself, mostly only succeeding in scaring the raccoon into a hole in the bottom of his mattress.

"Oversized rodents eating my food I can deal with, but why is it the one night I get to sleep in my boxers, I wake up to you watching me?!" Dean scolded picking himself up off the floor.

"Sam went out to get breakfast. He said to keep an eye on you."

"Why?!" Dean asked the emotionless angel.

"He said there was a raccoon under your bed and didn't want you to get mauled." Castiel answered still watching Dean as he quickly pulled on his pants.

"Yeah, well, I'm awake, off the floor, and the raccoon has been scared away, so cut it out. It's creepy."

"Sam said you two were on your way to California. Are you going on a 'vacation'?" Castiel said, staring at the wall, even though Dean had finished putting on his pants.

"No, we're working a case. We should get going as soon as he gets back. When did he leave?" Dean said it all quite quick, leaving no room for questions, and giving a quick glance to the shower in the bathroom.

"A couple of minutes before you woke up. You should have time if you'd like to shower." Dean didn't really want to waste the time it would take to doubt him. He nodded his thanks and hurried to the bathroom. Full night's sleep and time to shower? He must have made someone REALLY happy to get all this good karma. He quickly stripped and hurried to get in the first clean shower he had seen in a while. There were no roaches in it, it was slightly yellow, but that was better than the dirty brown the showers in these places usually were, the water was clear, had no smell, was even a fair lukewarm, which was nice since it was in the low 80's outside and high 80's in their room, and was a welcomed relief from the icy or scalding water he was used to. The hotel even had shampoo that wasn't empty, and a bar of soap that wasn't moldy. Just the bathrooms in this place merit a three star rating. It only took five minutes for Dean to get washed and rinsed, so he decided to repeat the process before getting out. He grabbed for a towel off of the back of the toilet, only to be sadly disappointed.

"What the fuck is this?" The towel was no bigger than a kitchen dish rag. He sighed and remembered Sam saying something about asking for towels after he had taken a shower last night. Unfortunately he had been half asleep by the time Sam had gotten out and hadn't paid attention. "Cass!"

"Yes?" The voice came from behind him. Dean spun around covering himself with the towel.

"WHAT THE HELL MAN?!"Cass gave dean a surprised look as if he was the one being weird, thankfully keeping his eyes locked on Dean's.

"You're the one who called me, if you'd care to recall…"

"Sass is not a good look on you. Yes, I recall, but you don't enter a locked bathroom without permission! Let alone poof up behind a naked guy! What the hell were you thinking!?"

"I was thinking there might be something wrong and that it would be best if I not waste time coming to your call. Now, was there a reason you called or did you just think this would be a good time for a lesson in bathroom rescue etiquette?"

"I don't need rescuing, Cass, I need a towel." Cass looked down at the towel and back at Dean.

"Don't you already…?"

"A full sized towel, Cass. I was going to ask you, THROUGH THE DOOR…. To get one from the front desk…. Do you mind?" Dean cut off the angel, wishing he hadn't looked down.

"Of course not. I'll try to be quick." Cass moved to go around Dean. Dean stopped him.

"Uh, rooms a bit small, and it'd be a bit awkward being that close to you…"

"'Awk-ward'?" Dean rolled his eyes.

"I'll have Sammy explain it later. Just poof will ya?" Castiel shrugged and poofed out of the room. A couple minutes later, there was a knock on the bathroom door. Dean opened the door only wide enough to get the towel and promptly closed and locked the door before drying off and getting dressed. Sam came in the motel room at the same time as Dean came out of the bathroom. Sam carried three bags of fast food breakfast. Dean looked at the clock. Nope. Almost noon. Just normal fast food. Still great. Dean didn't really like Mc-breakfast anyway. Sam gave him a perplexed look.

"You're up! I didn't expect you to be up so early…" He set the bags on his made bed.

"Yeah. I woke up to Cass and a raccoon watching me while the coon ate my Doritos. Know anything about either of those?"

"Look, you were asleep, they smelled, and it was so cute, I figured you wouldn't mind." Sam laughed but Dean was not amused. Cass sat on Sam's bed and poked through the filled bags.

"You know I hate it when I wake up to Cass watching me… All I was wearing was my boxers Sam." Sam rolled his eyes when Dean crossed his arms mid sentence.

"Like I said, I thought you'd still be asleep when I got back. Did you have a nice sleep?"

"Wonderful, that's not the poi-"

"And how was your shower?"

"The towels are too small, and Cass saw me naked. If you get the chance he'd like to know what 'awkward' means…." Sam blinked wide eyed.

"Got it. Next time I'll take Cass with me and leave you to make friends with the indigenous rodents…."

"I find myself much more amiable than most raccoons I've met." Sam and Dean both looked at Cass and then back at each other.

"Was it really that bad?" Sam said with a sympathetic look.

"He's becoming sassy Sam… He sassed me when I told him you aren't suppose to poof into bathrooms…." Sam smirked.

"You sure you aren't over reacting?" Dean huffed.

"Oh, yeah, sounds adorable FULLY CLOTHED!"

"I get it, I get it! I'll talk to him about it later."

"What, later? Oh come on Sammy, we are not bringing him!"

"Dean, calm down and eat, please? He's bored. He won't be a bother, I promise!"

"Fine… what did you get me?" Sam went over to where Cass was sitting, looked in the bags, picked up one and gave Cass another, the recipient smiling up at him in appreciation. Sam came back and handed the bag to Dean.

"Double Q-pound with cheese, 10-piece nuggets, fries, and a cheese burger." Dean looked down at the bag in his hands before looking over at Cass.

"Castiel, did I die in my sleep and go to heaven?" Dean asked the angel completely serious, and a little worried he may be right.

"Not that I know of…. If you did I am extremely lost…" Dean huffed again.

"You see? Sassy!" Dean whispered to Sam, who rolled his eyes.

"He seemed serious." Dean scoffed as Sam sat on the other side of his bed and began eating his big mac and Cass bit into a fish sandwich.

"Isn't he always serious?" Cass exclaimed right after him.

"This sandwich tastes divine…." Sam shrugged.

"That sounded a bit humorous."

"Thank you, I tried." Sam nodded.

"Pretty funny."

"The sandwich really is amazing though. What is it?"

"I thought you'd like it. It's called Pollok. It's a very healthy type of fish. Probably the healthiest thing you can get at a fast food place."

"What about the chicken?" Dean stopped Sam before he could answer.

"You don't wanna know, just eat."


	2. Chapter 2

"I still can't believe you have an apartment downtown but not a car… Even I have a car…" Stiles said to his eldest passenger. Peter popped his head forward and speaks directly into Stiles ear.

"Being a werewolf I'm very fast and have a lot of stamina. Being undead I have very little need to get anywhere in a hurry." Stiles jumped away from the unwanted proximity, jerking the wheel slightly. Lydia simply kept texting but Cora yelled.

"Stiles, if we crash I will kill you!"

"Assuming he wouldn't already be dead. Remember, he and I are normal." Peter pouted.

"I take offense to that. I'm perfectly normal." Lydia turned and blinked at him before simply returning to her phone.

"Don't talk to her, or I'll drop you here and you can walk the rest of the way, dirt breath." Peter gave Stiles a skeptical look.

"Really? 'Dirt breath'? That's the best you could come up with?"

"Well, no. I was going to say something involving fire, but I found it too hurtful."

"I never considered you the thoughtful type, Stiles. Thank you."

"Oh, no, thank you. I always love a nice back handed compliment…" Peter chuckled. Cora rolled her eyes and quickly stopped the conversation.

"So, you're sure Derek is meeting us at the house?"

"I'm sure he said he'd be there." Cora huffed at her uncle's annoying redirect, although she knew he couldn't be sure Derek would show.

"Did he tell you where he disappeared to? He's been gone for days." Stiles asked keeping his eyes on the dissipating dirt road.

"Because that would be so very characteristic of him? Come now, Stiles, if it was life threatening I'm sure he'd tell us."

"Well, did he say what he wanted us to get from the house?"

"Just some books from under the basement." Stiles turned back slightly, but Cora grabbed his head and directed it towards the windshield.

"Trees, Stiles! Trees everywhere!" Stiles huffed partially mocking, partially pouting.

"Under the basement…?"

"A cross between a creepy library and a creepy wine cellar under the cement floor of the basement, so the fire shouldn't have done much damage, but you should still watch your step. I'm fairly sure you're the type that would accidentally smother yourself in a padded room…" Stiles glared into the rearview mirror at the smiling man.

"Why have a library under your basement?"

"That makes it feel creepy." Stiles shook his head and returned his attention to the road.

"Whatever, I guess…." But now Lydia had a question.

"Why are we getting the books?"

"Because Derek asked us to." Peter hummed happily to the girl.

"What's in them?" Lydia gave a falsely happy hum back.

"Lots of tiny words and some pictures." Cora said before hopping out of the moving vehicle as the charred remains of the house came into sight. Stiles kept driving and pulled up to the house behind Scott. Derek's car was nowhere to be seen. Peter showed the kids down to the Library before pulling Stiles aside.

"I have to get some things from upstairs, would you mind helping me?"

"You're stronger than me. How could I possibly help?"

"Well, for instance if I fall down the stairs, I don't heal as I used to, so I'd prefer to have someone there. Or to help so I don't accidentally send a dresser sledding down the stairs." Stiles sighed and agreed before Peter dragged him upstairs to the ground floor. Peter stopped him at the bottom of the stairs. "Stay here, I don't trust the floors, I'll call you if I need you." Stiles leaned against the banister as Peter trotted up the stairs and wondered why the heck he was going anywhere alone with Peter. "By the way, Stiles…" Stiles looked up the stairs to the older man. "All your self-deprecation is really quite charming. " He turned to carry on with his business, but turned to the shocked boy one more time. "If not adorable." With that he left Stiles gaping at nothing.

* * *

Next chapter will be crossover.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam, Dean, and Castiel had spent the day going around the town looking into the strange going on's. Oddly they had gotten more information from public record than from people in town. Usually in small towns, people were hopping out of their seats to spill all the weird they'd heard. All they got out of the town was something about some poor kid who was suspected of killing his abusive father. The sheriff seemed skeptical of their press status, but at the same time seemed like he wouldn't tell them anything if they were press. A very no comment type, as if used to people prodding him for information. None of those people happened to say whether he had or not. Their lack of success gathering information from the public led to them scouring the massive paper trail of odd occurrences, and which led straight to the remains of the Hale family home. Dean parked the Impala anxiously as soon as the car swarmed house came into view and went to the trunk to get a couple guns, loading them with silver bullets. He passed one to Sam only to find Cass standing next to him.

"Do I get one?" Dean gave Cass a stern look.

"No. We don't know how many of them there are, it's a closed quarters, more could show up- Sam and I will deal with the ones inside, and you should stay out here and cover us."

"How do I cover you without a weapon?" Dean sighed.

"Use your angel-y powers! But I'm serious. Don't follow us in. We can take care of ourselves; we need you to stay out here." Cass nodded.

"I understand." With that Sam and Dean approached the house. They stopped, standing on either side of the door to listen. They could hear pacing behind the door. They exchanged a look of minor planning before Dean kicked the door in and both aimed their weapons. The only visible figure crouched down in an instant. Dean's weapon accidentally discharged as a result of his twitch of shock. It was a few feet above and to the right of the figure but it still dove left to the floor.

"Oh, god! Don't shoot me!" It was just some teenage kid, and judging by his reflexes, definitely not a werewolf. Dean didn't have a chance to lower his gun before he was thrown into wall, and if his now blurred vision was right so was Sam. Dean could see the shine of their guns on the floor where they'd been standing. _Oh, Crap… _Just as their assailant began to approach him, growling there was a bright light and the werewolf was thrown against the stairs. Dean saw the teenage boy scramble to the recovering man's side as Cass hurried over to him. Cass touched his two fingers to his head, healing something in or on it, and suddenly he could see just fine. He could perfectly see the worried look Cass was giving him and he could see Sam move for the guns, but he hadn't seen the other werewolf jump from the top of the stairs to kick the guns right out of Sam's reach. Sam went to punch him but the smaller man dodged the punch with ease and tripped him. Dean winced at the thud of his brother hitting the ground, but Cass gave a concerned look at him. The older looking man went over to the boy and the man lying on the stairs.

"Stiles, Derek, are you two okay? I heard a gunshot." The largest of the three stood.

"We're fine, Peter…" The one who attacked them, Derek, said as he approached Sam who still lay recovering at the bottom of the stairs. His clawed hand was ready to strike Sam.

"Sam, watch out!" Dean shouted before seeing the teenager and the older man holding Derek to stop him. Sam hurried to join Dean and Cass.

"Derek, chill!" The werewolf threw the boy to the ground.

"They shot at you, Stiles! They could have killed you!" The man bared his fangs at the young man in anger.

"But they didn't, Derek, I'm fine!"

"They're unarmed now. They aren't a threat, there's no reason to kill them Derek. Now I'm not pleased that they shot at Stiles either, but it could get complicated explaining how three trespassers died of an animal attack, in the house, while we were here…"

"Cass, we need to get out of here, now." Sam whispered to Cass as he sat with his brother.

"What? Hell no! We can take these bitches!" Sam and Cass looked at dean as if he was malnourished and 3 feet tall saying this.

"Dean, neither of us is in any shape to fight. Cass, Let's go." Cas looked at Dean as if trying to decide but he looked back at Sam and nodded anyway. Castiel grabbed them both and with a flutter of wings he and Sam were in the back of the Impala. Dean looked around the small space for Cass only to see the angel racing for the two guns shining on the porch of the dilapidated home, one on the steps and the other in the middle of the porch. Dean found himself staring close to the glass of the window, as if it would make the angel any safer. He retrieved the closest weapon, but the large werewolf came storming out, already closer to the second gun than Castiel was. Dean couldn't help but shout out the open driver side window.

"Forget the gun! Cut and run, Cass!" Cas reached for the gun, but Derek Hale brought his foot down right in front of the gun. Cas pushed away from the porch and stumbled off the stairs and ran as fast as he could to the driver side. He turned the keys, already in the ignition, and quickly tore out of the woods. Dean twisted his body around in his seat to make sure they weren't being followed, keeping sight of the three standing in front of the house until they disappeared through the trees and rolling landscape.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean shifted against the door behind him, turning to face Sam. Sam was giving him the same concerned look Cas was giving into the rear view mirror. Sam leaned up to the angel driving, reluctant to address the problem Dean didn't seem to notice.

"Cas, could you heal him before he bleeds out?" Dean gave him a confused look. Cas shifted uncomfortably.

"I… already tried healing him. I can't even ponder what could be wrong. My powers should be working, but it seems they aren't." Sam shrugged.

"Try healing me." Cas stopped the car in the empty road and turned to touch Sam, healing him.

"It would seem it worked." Sam nodded giving Dean a worried look. Dean rolled his eyes.

"What the hell are you two talking about? I feel fine! Cas healed me, and now I feel great." Sam looked disbelievingly at Dean's torso. Dean's eyes followed to see two gashes starting in the middle of his stomach. He had to twist his torso just to see them end in the middle of his side. "Damn! How the fuck does that not hurt?!" It almost sounded like a whine.

"Good question." Sam said looking to Cas for the answer.

"I believe the lack of pain is due to my trying to heal him."

"But my vision was blurred before you healed me. Was that a mind trick too? 'Cause I'm pretty sure that's not how vision works." Cas sighed.

"The wound to your brain most likely occurred when you hit the wall."

"What? So you're saying doggie wounds are immune to angel healing powers?!" Cas looked uncomfortable.

"I'm… not sure. It may be due to me being fallen." Sam didn't seem to understand.

"I thought you still had your powers." Cas turned to stare Sam down.

"Well, I did not have many occasions to heal wounds inflicted by werewolves while in the service of Heaven. So I am not aware of the cause of this predicament."

"It sounds like you're trying desperately trying not to say 'I don't know', Cas…" Cas looked at Dean but didn't have the heart to glare or stare him down.

"I believe it would be best to take Dean to a hospital." Dean ran his finger over the wound, realizing that under all the blood that had accumulated, it wasn't much more than torn skin. His muscles, although more exposed than usual, were perfectly intact.

"I'm sure I'll be fine if Sammy patches me up. It's just a flesh wound." Sam looked at him wide eyed.

"Dean! You're insides are exposed! You need stitches and antibiotics!" Sam scolded him as Cas took the car out of park and started driving again. "Cas, do not listen to him. Find the nearest hospital."

"I planned to. I am aware of how Dean can be when it comes to sincerely getting professional medical attention." Dean brooded not looking at Sam.

"I hate hospitals…." Dean grumbled before a sheriff's car ripped past them, siren blaring. Sam watched until it was out of sight.

"Crap. Drive, drive, drive." Cas sped off as fast as he thought he could get away with if caught.

Stiles exhaled shakily as Derek came back into the house, still on edge. Derek pulled him up roughly, and manhandling him and pulling up his clothes to reveal his skin.

"Hey, Derek! What the hell?!" Derek yanked up Stiles' right sleeve revealing a long scratch up his arm. Stiles hissed at the friction caused by his sleeve as it rubbed against the bleeding scratch. Derek seethed with rage.

"I knew it! They're dead, I'm gonna rip their throats out!" Peter cleared his throat. He pulled a bloody nail out of a floor board, a small piece of skin hung off.

"He scratched himself on a loose nail, Derek. Calm down." Peter picked up Stiles' phone and threw it to Stiles, then went to grab the gun off the porch. The boy whined.

"Oh, crap! I was on the phone with my dad when they showed up! You don't think he heard anything, do you?" Peter hid the gun in the hidden space under the stairs.

"Oh, yeah. He heard." Peter said hurriedly. Stiles looked between the werewolves.

"His police sirens are coming. Pretty quickly." Derek said broodingly, nodding to the other teenagers as they entered the foyer carrying boxes.

"What happened? Is everything okay?" Scott asked first. Isaac didn't leave time for an answer.

"Sirens… Should we get out of here?" Derek shook his head.

"A couple guys broke in. Shot at Stiles. He was on the phone with his dad. If he asks, say it was probably burglary." Stiles perked up.

"Well, maybe they were burglars! They come to loot an abandoned old house, figure they'll rob the people that are here!" Derek and Peter gave him their usual looks that made him feel like an idiot.

"One threw me into the stairs without touching me, Stiles. That can't be a coincidence." Stiles pouted.

"You guys act like I've never been right before. And you guys are forgetting, this is MY DAD. He's been freaking out since he found out, and he's not gonna believe me getting shot at has nothing to do with the werewolf thing. According to him, I've been getting into a 'whole new dimension of trouble' since Scott got bit. Let alone Derek being involved, I'm never going to be able to leave my house again." Peter rubbed his back, even though Stiles turned to glare at him.

"Aw, don't worry Stiles. You know I'd break you out." The older man smirked. "At a price, determined at a later date, of course." Derek growled, and Peter moved away slightly, holding up his hands in innocence."Yes, yes, I know. Let's not give Big Bad Dad reason to shoot any of us." Just then Stiles' dad's car rolled up. He got out, drew his gun and ran up to the house, calling out to his son. Derek moved out of the way so he could clearly see his son was fine, sitting on the stairs. He slipped his gun in his holster and ran to his boy, who stood up and went to hug him.

"Thank God you're okay! Damn it, Stiles, you scared me! What happened?" Neither pulled back, Stiles could deal with the embarrassment, because he honestly had thought he was going to die, and while he was on the floor he had prayed for one last chance to hug his dad, and he'd be damned if he wasted one hug. He could actually feel his eyes starting to tear up.

"A couple guys broke in, I think their gun went off accidentally. Derek got here just after that. He and Peter scared them off. God, Dad I thought I'd never see you again…" The last part was a whisper, as if he could hide the words or the fact that his throat was quivering in the room of hypersensitive hearing gifted werewolves. He chose to stop talking and break the hug before he started crying.

"What did they look like son?" Stiles gave a quick look to Derek, who nodded.

"There were three of them. One was freakishly tall, like taller than Derek. I'm talking like 6 and a third, maybe taller. He had a slim to average build though, well proportioned I guess. Light tan skin, long medium brown hair. He was younger than the other two I think. The one that came in with that guy was about 6 foot give or take. His hair was either dirty blond or light brown. He wasn't as tan as the other guy but he wasn't that pale." Peter popped out a word before Stiles continued.

"Fair."

"He seemed a bit better built than the tall guy. That's all I really noticed about him. I didn't really get a good look at the third. The shorter guy called the taller guy Sam, though." Sheriff Stilinski nodded, having written all that down.

"Derek and, um, Peter is it? Do you two want to add anything?" Peter spoke up first, which took a few seconds.

"The taller one had murky green eyes. And amazing skin. He was a very cute young man. He seemed to be a fairly experienced fighter. I didn't really see the third guy either though. Derek did." The sheriff turned to Derek to see him glaring at Peter.

"Could ya give a description, Derek?" Derek rolled him eyes at the edge put on his name.

"Brown hair, loose curls, and blue eyes I think. Caucasian, Average Build. Stiles' height. Wearing a suit, a blue tie, and an overcoat. They were driving an older Chevrolet Impala." Sheriff Stilinski nodded and sighed.

"For the record, I haven't filed this yet. Should I?" Derek shrugged.

"I'm getting pretty sick of trespassers, so if you're asking if I'd like to press charges, the answer is yes, I would." The sheriff nodded again, as he turned back to Stiles. He hugged his son again; as soon as he pulled back he put his hand to his son's forehead and then his cheek, looking concerned.

"Stiles, you're cold-"

"Dad, come on. It's just cold out; I'm not going in shock."

"Stiles, it'd make me feel a lot better if you came with me to the precinct and let me take you to the hospital." Stiles sighed.

"Dad, really, I'm fine. You have work to get done, I'm not gonna distract you because I'm a bit shaken up." Peter got up and took a couple steps toward the two.

"Stiles, your father is right. That scratch isn't bleeding as much as it should be, your nails are discolored, if you're cold, you should most definitely get to the hospital. The sooner the better, I'll drive you to the hospital while your dad finishes up at the precinct. He can meet us there." Stiles rubbed his head.

"Great. I'll get going then." The sheriff turned and started walking out, back to his car.

"I'm not getting out of this, am I?" Peter clamped his hand onto Stiles' shoulder, smiling as Derek rolled his eyes.

"Nope. Let's go for a drive, Stiles."


	5. Chapter 5

Sam stood at the end of his brother's hospital bed as he got stitched up while he was still hopped up on pain meds. He was desperate for distraction from medically induced pain, for he liked hospitals about as much as Dean did, maybe less, for really in the overall and end he had only a stick figure interpretation of the picture that was his brother's brain. But his setting would quite impede his chances of finding any distraction. The non-urgent section of a hospital emergency room. Wounds that were serious but not particularly life gave almost half the beds occupants. Dean would have kicked him in the kidney if he saw how many times he cringed as he scanned the room. Sam's eyes stopped across from his brother's bed, on the other of what he assumed was a nurses' station. Sam turned and gently wacked Cas, who kept trying to hold Dean's hand to comfort him which only made him move and bitch more. He pointed out the two across the room. Cas came over to Sam, who whispered in return.

"Isn't that the kid and the older guy from-?" Cas nodded.

"I believe so. Why would they have come here? I don't believe the boy was hurt." Sam shrugged musing.

"Shock maybe? Heck, maybe his scarier furry friend got pissed after we left. Seemed like he's used to being rough with the kid. Seems fine though." The older man who Sam had fought with and seemed to be doing the same thing Cas was trying to do for Dean- gingerly comforting him against his will- rubbed the boy's shoulder while speaking to him then left towards the exit. Cas looked Sam's way and was going to go ask if they should approach him, but the taller brother was already gone, walking over to the boy. He sat down next to the boy where he could watch for the other man's return as the boy was turned away. When he turned to see who it was, he inhaled sharply with a jump, obviously startled. Sam's smile was courteous but obviously insincere. "Hi. Stiles, was it?"

"My dad is the sheriff. Touch me, and he'll go through every law book state and federal, and lock your ass up so long you be happy to get laid by your fellow inmates…." Sam held up his hands as a sign of peace."

"Chill out, man. I don't want to hurt you, just figured I'd come make sure you were alright, apologize. My brother's gun went off accidentally. He didn't mean to scare you, and he certainly didn't mean to hurt you." Stiles nodded.

"Ah, nice. Avoid attempted murder and aggravated assault. You sound like a pro at this. Are you the band of criminals' legal team?"

"I was in school to be a lawyer…" Stiles cut him off as he trailed his sentence off.

"Before?" Sam smiled and chose not to incriminate himself as a hunter in case he was wrong about the boy's friends, though after seeing them at the Hale House he was sure he wasn't.

"Honestly, it seems like you'd be used to being aggregately assaulted…" Stiles shrugged and began to take on a more combative tone.

"Well, yeah, hanging around werewolves all day, it'll happen every now and then." The boy looked at a surprised Sam, straight faced, with only the slightest trace of a smile, gauging his reaction and ready to laugh if Sam responded without recognition. Only when he knew Sam knew did he speak. "We both know what you are, don't deny it. A hunter. And if I'm guessing right, not even the acceptable kind. No. If it had been Derek or Peter standing where I had been, you probably would have shot them before your brother's gun went off. Hell, if I was a werewolf you probably would have shot me, an innocent 17 year old kid. You're murderers, and honestly I couldn't care any less about you're apology, especially considering if your brother was sorry he's probably man enough to say it himself. So piss off."

"Wow. That was… something. Well… I'm sure my brother would come over. But your friend tore him up a bit." Stiles gave an hmm, not very sympathetic.

"Yeah, sorry. Derek kinda hates trespassers, especially when they have guns and shoot at people in his house. Most people do though."

"We get that reaction a lot, so it's fine." Stiles sighs through his nose.

"My dad's on his way, Peter should be much longer with his call. I'm going to tell them you're here. So, you might wanna be gone by the time Peter gets back. He's more pissed about this than he looks." Sam nodded, getting up.

"Right of course." He turned back to Stiles despite the half-half warning and threat. "It was nice to meet you, Stiles, despite being threatened with legal action, and being called a murderer. Decent at least. See ya around." Sam hurried back over to Cas and Dean. Cas was helping Dean off the bed. Sam helped, getting him down easier and faster having two people. He spoke quickly.

"Good news, right about the werewolves-"

"Tell us something we don't know Sammy." Sam looked at Dean, not amused.

"You shot at the son of a sheriff, the kid's human, we are not forgiven, and he's here with a _very_ unhappy werewolf. So I hope you can hobble to the car pretty quick." Just as Sam finished the werewolf hurried back to his young friend. He stood talking with the boy for a moment.

"That sounds bad." Sam pointed the man out to Dean just as he turned to look at the trio. They both tensed up and Sam could see Dean's hidden cringe.

"That is bad, Cas. Good job. Let's get the hell of here." Dean graciously accepted Castiel's help in speed walking to the passenger side of the car, all the while in a numb pain. As they tore out of the parking lot, Sam saw the werewolf run out of the hospital after them into the parking lot. He grimaced at the loud roaring howl the man let off as Sam watched him in the mirror until they turned off the straight road and down another.

Interesting H is a vowel in hmm!


	6. Chapter 6

Peter ran into the parking lot in an attempt to chase the men, only to watch them driving away quickly. He didn't really know why he chased after them. They obviously weren't a threat, injured and running away. It was just the fact that they were in the same room as Stiles after having nearly killed him pissed him off, and the fact that he smelled the tall one's scent all around Stiles made him desperately want to tear all of them limb from limb. He also didn't know why he wanted to do that. He thought he had gotten all his aggression out of his system. All he could think was it was a matter of territory. Of pack and family and friends; things anyone would get defensive about. Despite not knowing why he was feeling so irate, that didn't stop him from feeling helpless and useless for not being able to chase them down, even more so for not being there for Stiles. Here the kid is, going through a bunch of shit that shouldn't be his problem for the pure love of them all, getting attacked all the time, helping no matter what the task no matter the danger, now he was going through shock and where was He when Stiles needed him? Checking in with Derek that the books had been collected successfully, a pointless call, one he could have made inside, but no. He hates being in hospitals when he doesn't have to be. It was stuffy and he needed some air. So now he felt like total and utter crap. He wanted to collapse right there in the parking lot, but he wouldn't. He wanted to get back to his current temporary ward and he started walking back, suddenly conscious of how scared and stressed Stiles must be all on his own in a big hospital, with no one he knew except the lovely Miss. McCall, who _was_ pretty damn hot but was also extremely busy, even too busy to nervously keep an eye on Peter like a farmer watching a wolf hang around a sheep corral, which he had grow accustom to her doing, and certainly had no time to hold _Stiles'_ hand and calm him warmly, even if it would keep his condition from progressing, or even calm him out of possible health concerns, because that was the way it was because people needed healing. That often seemed to be how it was when it came to Stiles or his problems. Every other problem big or small came before him and his needs were thrown aside. Peter had thought about it before, but this was the first time it had bothered him this much. Or maybe he was just stringing out things to bother him in his sudden depression. Whatever it turned out to be he figured it could only make him feel better to get out of his head and coddle Stiles to the best of his ability, at least until Sheriff Stilinski got there and took over. And the first thing he saw when he returned his attention to his surrounding was the teenage boy in question, looking at him expectantly, almost worried he'd done something stupid that would cause more trouble. Peter gave him a soft look as he approached and gave the young man a one armed hug, which earned him a suspicious but slightly less tense Stiles. _'Score!'_ Peter thought to himself.

"Is my dad going to have to arrest you for murder?" He kind of wanted to joke, but thought better of it, realizing how fast Stiles' heart was racing.

"Don't worry, I didn't catch them. Although, I wish I had." The boy sighed.

"You'd just regret it later, Peter." Peter answer quickly but softly.

"I wouldn't mind regretting it, _Stiles_." Even Peter winced at the bite he put on the boy's nickname, and then he winced again at Stiles' heart jumping at that same bite. "Sorry… You're right. I should know better than to be so spiteful." It was insincere but he'd be damned if it didn't sound like the most sincere thing he'd ever said.

"I don't own a farm, Peter, I don't need that much manure." Peter sighed.

"I was trying to be comforting. I could tell you were upset that I still want to hurt them." He tried to rub Stiles' shoulder comfortingly, but Stiles grabbed his arm.

"I'm fine, dude! I'd much rather be home, winding down. Can't you just take me home while we can still catch my dad?" Peter smiles sympathetically but it looked insincere to Stiles- as did most of his expressions.

"I'm sorry Stiles; I'm not taking the risk of pissing off your dad. I dislike being shot. Once he gets here, and they tell him you're reaction is just a natural response and the best thing for you is to rest in a safe environment, then you can go home. Until then, don't worry, I'm not leaving your side." Stiles sighed and got up.

"You're going to have to." Peter's face scrunched up in concern and confusion.

"Why is that…?" Peter would have sworn the face Stiles made was patronizing or condescending. Could a face be condescending? Whatever it was Peter made a stern, I'm-putting-my-foot-down, answer-me face, and Stiles rolled his eyes and spoke in a hushed voice.

"God, Peter, I need to go to the bathroom!" Peter gave a half concerned half understanding look.

"Be caref-"

"Oh, my god! Dude, I'm going to the BATHROOM, not out in the woods. There aren't even stalls, it's a single bathroom. All I have to do is lock the door and nobody can get in without me knowing." Peter stood in silence for at least a minute with an annoyed/annoying Are-you-done-ranting-so-I-can-say-something look. When Stiles motioned for him to say whatever it was he was going to say, he leaned in close to Stiles.

"… Be care-" Stiles rolled his eyes as he walked off.

"Careful, yeah, got it!" He called back before entering the bathroom, closing the door a bit hard to emphasize his annoyance.

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	7. Chapter 7

AN: Thank you to every one who reviews, It really does keep me going. Special thanks to:  
Guest: Thank you so very much, this is by far one of the best reviews I could say I've gotten, and certainly one of the most well articulated. It made my day.  
TheUnknownCountry: THANK YOU, OH MAH GAWWWWD! You're too sweet. :)  
HeidiFox: Thank you, I see what you mean, and I'll try to do better. Authors become great because of a good mix of praise and criticism, Thanks for help!

And Thank you's too EVERYONE who has stuck with me since I started this amateur-ill-thought-out-rarely-updated thing! I will continue, I love you all greatly! Don't hate the new Chapter too much!  
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(_Cas POV-3__rd__ person)_

"So… You did at least get somethin' outta the kid right?" Dean said uncomfortably as he shifted his torso, most certainly irritating his wound and newly acquired patch job if Castiel read his expression properly.

"Mostly just that he is friends with the werewolves. Also, we apparently have to watch out for the smaller guy- Peter- because he is apparently not very happy with us."

"Yeah, I didn't figure that out when he chased us after you said the kid was there with an unhappy werewolf…" Cas just barely heard Dean grumble. Castiel popped his forward.

"I find him rather problematic. How will you get anything done with him trying to hunt the three of us down?" Dean gave him a quick glance.

"More importantly, how are we going to get to talk to that kid again if he's on him like cream on an Oreo?" Castiel looked to Sam and opened his mouth to voice that he didn't understand that reference, but thought it better to forget it while Sam looked as though he was thinking.

"Well we could go back and tail him once they leave. But I think I should tell you that that's probably not a good idea and he probably doesn't wanna talk to us." Sam voiced no more than a second later.

"Yeah, and why do ya think that?" Dean replied struggling to open a processed meat tube snack without hurting himself, Castiel took it and opened it as Dean had showed him before.

"His father is the Sheriff."

"Explains why the fuzz showed so quick, he probably called him." Dean snatched his meat stick back from him. "I coulda done it myself, Cas."

"And he in no uncertain terms called us murderers and said we could 'piss off'- his exact words." Cas mimicked Dean when he raised his eyebrow. "I don't know. He was talking all combatively or defensively, like they were family or- well, pack."

"Do you think his dad knows about his affiliations?" Cas asked trying to get as much information on the table as he could.

"I don't know but he is a cop, and he has a description of us, and if his sons says 'those are the guys' he'll probably believe him." Dean said eating his snack.

"No undercover then… We could check around his school. Talk to his friends." Dean shook his head.

"I'm guessing there are furries there too. How else would he know those guys and not be a werewolf?"

"Well, he could be a family friend. According to all I found the Hales were a well-known family, and apparently most of them were werewolves." Sam said gesturing to a bunch of papers. "I believe the youngest sister would've been in school with him."

"Come on Sammy… Did you have rich girls chatting you up in grade school?" Sam opened his mouth to retort but simply sighed.

"Do you have a better idea?" Dean answered smiling which confused Cas.

"I got nothing…" The three sat for at a red light completely silent.

"I may have a more efficient idea." Cas interjected once he knew the brothers were done and he had properly thought it through. The two looked at him, but he said nothing.

"Well, Cas, feel free to share…." Sam invited and Cas nodded at him.

"Of course… I could visit the boy." Sam and Dean looked at each other

"Cas, you were up close and personal with a werewolf. He probably told the guy what you smell like if he knows about the werewolf thing!" Dean said tiredly.

"Even if he does know, I didn't plan on him seeing me."

"Maybe plan a bit bet-" Sam cut Dean off, speaking with much less spice than Dean.

"You mean you're going to break into a sheriff's house after his son got shot at by two people who broke into an abandoned old house?"

"Not _break_ into…" Sam realized. "Cas is suggesting he find out where the kid lives and appearing in his room. Right, Cas?" Cas nodded.

"I'd prefer to get Dean back into the hotel first though." He said as they pulled up to the hotel. Sam stopped the Impala. Cas and Sam helped Dean out of the car and into the hotel room. He laid down on the bed.

"Cas, Be careful okay?"

"Why be careful? They cannot kill me or arrest me."

"No, but it'll complicate things if they know exactly what you look like." Cas nodded his understanding and disappeared.


End file.
